Terror of the Titanic
by Alyssium
Summary: Emma has been an orphan all her life. Now at 16, someone decides to adopt her. Now she must put up with her escort, Wil as he accompanies her on the Titanic. But will they survive? And what does this adopter have to do with her past?
1. Default Chapter

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A/N:

Here is another story. I know I need to finish my other ones, but I got the inspiration last night. Here it is:

Prologue

She was running. For her life, she was running. No, not just for her own life, but for the life of her baby. _Her sweet baby girl_, she mused as she continued running up the cobble stoned streets. Sweat had begun to form at her brow and her cloths were beginning to stick to her back. But she didn't care, all she cared about was getting her and her baby to safety.

Her footsteps echoed as she turned and headed into a dark alley way. They made a sound pattern that matched her ragged breath and pounding heart. The night was cold, and the air entering her lungs was sharply fresh. Her arms ached from carrying the bassinet and her legs hurt from running. But she didn't stop. She couldn't stop. If she did, the monster would surely get her. For that is what she called her: the monster.

But the monster had not always been evil. No, the monster had once been a warm woman with graying hair and a friendly complexion. It was after Katrina had met Matthew that things began to change. For, ever since she had met Matthew, Katrina's every move had been monitored. She had no choice but to escape.

This is what forced her to give birth to her baby in a barn. Her father's barn, to be exact. It was there, in the barn, that she silently, or as silently as one can be when one is having a baby, gave birth to the small child in her arms. 

Once she reached the monastery, she stopped, took a few moments to compose herself, then set the bassinet with the sleeping baby on the doorstep. Next, she quietly took a note out from her pocket and put it in the bassinet. She stared at the sleeping baby one last time, then left her daughter on the doorstep.

She had not wanted to leave her baby with these strangers, but Matthew had assured her that it would be alright. When the time was right, they would call for her. When it was safe, he had told her, she reminded herself as she walked down the familiar path to their meeting place. _Everything was going according to plan. They would meet and get on the night ship to America. Then, when it was safe they would call for their daughter and they all would be reunited…_

But Katrina's notions of their plan were wiped out of her mind when she came upon the clearing, their meeting place. For there, standing in the midst of all the London fog, was the monster. Katrina winced as if someone had struck her. Then walked towards the monster, ready to face what was to come.

"Well, you finally decided to grace us with your presence!" the monster exclaimed, eyeing her daughter suspiciously.

"Where is the bastard?" she asked, for she had known that her daughter had given birth. _Given_ _birth to that Matthew whelp's bastard child_, she mused as she stared at her daughter. She was the mirror image of her mother. With flaming red hair that curled wildly, especially when it was wet. And those green-gray eyes, those she had gotten from her deceased father. 

"You'll never 'ave 'er!" Katrina cried, her British accent flowing out of he mouth.

"We'll see about that!" the monster retorted and she looked into the bushes. Katrina's eyes followed her mother's gaze, Her eyes widened in horror as she saw what her mother was referring to.

"Leave 'im be!' she yelled. For there, in the trees, Matthew was standing on a tree stump. A noose wrapped tightly around him neck. Any attempt at escape and he would have died.

"Give 'er to me!' the monster shouted, 

"An' you can 'ave your Matthew!" Katrina thought about this for a minute. _If I save Matthew, our baby will surely die. If I save our child, Matthew will die._

The monster smiled, "'Arder that it sounds, my dear." she laughed viciously.

"Well, 'ere is the finale. You 'ave five minutes to decide. Your baby of your 'usband." And when Katrina looked at her curiously, she answered, "Yes, I 'ave known all along that you would marry that scum." she eyes Matthew with pure disgust.

Katrina thought she would scream. She could not choose who to save. Her baby was safe, she knew that. _But what about her beloved Matthew? _Andbefore she knew it, the monster was saying, Time is up. Make your choice."

"I-I can't." Katrina stammered. The monster regarded her for a minute, then said,

"You loose then." And she walked over towards Matthew.

"NOOOOOO!!!!" Katrina screamed as the monster kicked the stump out from under Matthews feet. Katrina wanted to close her eyes, turn her back, but her whole body stood frozen on that very spot. It was there that she looked on, helplessly, as Matthew struggled for life. She watched as his eyes bulged and his breaths became shallower and shallower. Then she finally watched him die as rivers of tears streamed across her face.

"Now is you turn." the monster turned to her daughter.

"Mom, please-" But Katrina's pleas were cut off by the sound of a pistol. Katrina looked down at her stomach which was bleeding profusely, then fell to the ground. She was dead in a matter of seconds.

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Mother Katherine got up with the sun. There was work to be done. She got up and dressed herself, preparing for another eventful day. She had just finished when there was a light rapping at her door.

"Come in." she motioned, for she was always there when the one of the girls needed her.

"Mother." the girl curtsied as she entered.

"Child." Mother Katherine said, 

"What is it child?"

"There was a baby on the font porch this morning. Mother Mary 'as her now." she girl reported.

"Thank you Elizabeth. I will be right there."

Mother Katherine didn't lie. It was a full minute later when she walked into the library. She walked with authority, but with an aura of kindness so that she seemed approachable. It did not take any girl long to trust this friendly woman. For, Mother Katherine had lived in this very monastery as a child, as an orphan. She understood and had felt what each and every girl was going through.

"Where did she come from?" she asked Mother Mary.

"I don't know, she was just 'ere this morning when I went to get the milk. Along with this letter." Mother Mary said, handing her the letter. It read:

Dear Mothers of the Monastery~

I am sorry to leave my child like this, but you must see, her life, and mine, is in danger. My husband and I plan to leave for America tonight. When the time is right, we will send for our dear daughter. Take care of her, please. Here is five pounds for you trouble.

~Love, Always~

Katrina Moorchild.

P.S. Her name is Emma Marie Moorchild. Please tell her, when the time is right, that I love her and will come for her.

"This is above my station." she told her companion,

"Let's take 'er to Mother Superior."


	2. Spring is in the Air

A/N: 

Thanks for all my reviews!!! You love me!! YAY! (lol) Here is the next chapter…

**Ch1: Spring is in the Air**

It was cold. The December winds swept across her face, but she took no notice. All she paid attention to was the jiggling and bouncing of the bassinet. She curled up further, the blankets carried the warmth from her body and transferred it unto her icy skin. It was then that she fell asleep, listening to the fast breathing of her mother…..

The next thing she knew, the bassinet had stopped moving. In fact, she had stopped moving all together. She was alone. Alone in the cold harsh winter world. It was then that she was overcome by a sudden sense of abandonment and was very aware of how alone she was. Then she heard a cry. The cry of a woman, the hideous cry of someone dying. 

Then there was silence. She began to cry and cry. She continued to cry all through the night. No one could here, or no one cared. She cried until her lungs gave out. She was thirsty, she was cold, and she knew she was going to die.

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"NOOOOOO!!!!" Emma shot up out of her bed like an arrow. Sweat formed at the base of her neck. She sat there, sobbing until no more tears could form in her eyes. _It was always like this…every time…_she mused as she looked out the window. The bright Sunday morning was enough to get her out of bed. 

Quietly, so she would not disturb her room mates, she got dressed. Her uniform consisted of a plaid blue skirt that fell down a little past her knees, and a matching vest to go over her plain white shirt that stopped mid-elbow. It was not a good fashion statement, but it was all that nuns at Westminster Abbey could afford.

She crept out of her room and through the hall way. Light from the windows shown through and made intricate patterns on the stone floor. Emma ignored these. She was too used to them to care. When she had been little, however, she had been fascinated by the way the lights had played with the chandeliers and had created rainbows all around her. But now, she past them, and walked into the courtyard. 

Light was streaming as wildlife grew all around her. She bent down, sniffed the roses and thought of her favorite poem by Robert Browning:

__

Oh, to be in England  
Now that April's there,  
And whoever wakes in England  
Sees, some morning, unaware,  
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf  
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,  
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough  
In England--now!!

April was coming soon, and spring was early. She could sense it. The flowers, the wildlife, and most of all, the weather. The rain had stopped and the sun had come out. This was a huge indication of spring, for in London it was always raining or cold. But not today. No, today the sun was warm on her back as she walked along the gate and enjoyed the scenery. This had been her tradition for years, to walk the gardens right before mass on Sundays. 

She knew that it was getting late, but the beauty of the day called to her. So, instead of going back, she walked further along the gate. This was not her norm, but she couldn't help herself. As she walked a curious smelled drifted through the air. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she walked closer. When she looked over towards the street she was people filing and crowding over a vendor and his cart.

"Fresh fish an' chips! Get your fresh fish an' chips 'ere!" cried the vendor, and Emma's stomach began to growl. She began to stare at the vendor, not noticing the people walking just outside the gate in front of her.

"Aren't you supposed to be inside?" a voice asked from behind her. Emma nearly jumped. When she turned around, she would have come face to face, with a sandy haired, brown eyed man, if it had not been for the bars that separated them. _No, he's not a man he's a kid, _she told herself. For, in his brown pants and white collared shirt, he looked barely older than her sixteen.

"What is it any of your business?" she retorted back for she had not liked the gleam in his eye.

"Sorry ma'am. I was just wondering what a young thing like you is doing outside on a Sunday morning'. Shouldn't you be at mass or sumthin'?" he asked lazily. Rage built up inside her. _How dare he!_

"I go where I want, when I want." she told him smartly, causing his eye brows to rise.

"Fine, don't get all worked up." he smiled, causing her stomach to do a flip. Annoyed at the reaction, she scowled. She was about to say something, but Sister Katherine interrupted her.

"Emma, child, we were looking all over for you. Come, time for mass." Emma reluctantly followed her. As she walked away she could hear the boy laughing at her. _Why should he infuriate her so? _she wondered as she walked into the chapel and sat down.

  



	3. Life at the Abbey

A/N

I want to thank everybody for reviewing! (The few reviews that I do have.) And KivaidensGirl I love you! You are the best friend a girl can have!! And as for those who think that I am very religious, well sorry to burst your bubble, but I'm not. I got to church, but I am questioning my own beliefs as of this moment (not that it is any of your business.) And I know plenty of people who have different beliefs or do not believe at all, so please do not stereotype me. I wrote religion into this story (the only story for which I have done) because in the 1910s and in England church was important! (If you watch _Titanic, _they go to church!) I just wanted to be as historically correct as possible. Sorry if I offended anyone.

Ch2: Life at the Abbey

Emma was tired. No, she was more than tired she was _bored. _Bored with life, bored with school, bored with church, and she wanted out. More than anything, she wanted to be free to do what she wanted when she wanted. And she hated to be cooped up in Westminster Abbey, doing what the Sisters thought was best.

As Sister Emily told them of the pyramids in Egypt, Emma tried to focus. She had always loved history, especially Egypt history, but today she could not find the will to pay attention. No, her thoughts were drawn to something else-someone else.

_'Ow dare he be so arrogant!_ Her head screamed, For two days now, she had gotten that strangers face into her mind. She had no idea why she had reacted the way she did, only that it was his fault.

Yes his fault. 'Is fault for being so bloody smart and charming—wait! Did I just say charming? She did not get time to ponder on this though, for Sister Emily was addressing her.

"Emma, tell me, w'o was the greatest Pharaoh throughout all of Egypt's 'istory?" 

"Uhh…" Emma's mind raced, searching for something.

"Ramsey." She asked, hoping that it was right.

"No, Ramsey was the second," came a voice from behind her. Emma gritted her teeth as she turned around.

"Yes, that's right Laura. Pray, can you tell us the first?"

"Yes, the first is King Tut or Tutankhamun." Emma just glared at her. If Laura saw, she chose not to show it, instead, she turned her attention to Sister Emily and the lesson.

As class ended, Clara, Emma's best friend, came up behind her.

" She's such a priss." she said, motioning her arm towards Laura.

"I know, she pretends to know everything, but she really doesn't." Emma agreed as she stared at Laura's blond curls and smooth skirt. This caused her to look at her own, wrinkles skirt.

"She's just as good as the rest of us." Clara reassured her, knowing, by now, what Emma was thinking."

"I know." Emma sighed as they headed off to their next class.

Sister Katherine's class was literature, and Emma was most excited about taking this class, for she had always loved to read and write. Clara, however, was more artistic and loathed the process of reading and writing.

" 'Ow can you enjoy this?" Clara asked in disgust as a line of frustration formed across her forehead.

"Because," Emma told her, "It's interesting!"

" 'Ow is Shakespeare interesting?! I'd rather learn about Monet any day."

"Monet drew pictures, Shakespeare wrote art." Emma informed her. It only took a minute for the two girls to start laughing. They knew that they would never agree of art or literature, and this was both ironic and comical to them both.

As lunch began, hand and hand, they walked into the lunch room. A hall full of tables and girls in uniform formed around them as they walked through the hall and gathered to get their lunches, but they paid no attention. These thing were not out of the norm for them, so they did not notice how important this small situation was.

They made their way to their normal table and greeted the other girls who sat there, as well: Sarah, with the long, dark hair, which flowed down past her knees. Rose, who was extremely quiet, except on rare occasions. And Virginia, who was so loud that everyone in the orphanage knew her my face, and if not, by voice.

" 'I" Clara and Emma greeted simultaneously.

" 'I" they all greeted, but were immediately hushed as Mother Superior walked into the room.

"Children, ladies." Mother Superior called with her stern voice ad she stiffly crossed the room. One could tell by her gait that she was not a woman to cross. When she got to her destination, the process immediately began: Each girl was to bow their head an clasp their hands as Mother Superior began the prayer.

"Oh Lord, who art thou in Heaven…" She began and Emma prepared herself for a long prayer. Getting bored, she opened her eyes. She knew that such tings were forbidden, but she did it anyways. And instead of focusing on the prayer, she began to study Clara.

Clara' features were not much different than her own. But while Emma's hair was red and wavy, Clara's was dark and straight. And Emma knew, without even looking at them, that her eyes were a dark brown, much like her hair. Clara was shorter than Emma, but much prettier. Emma had always thought so, but they had known too few guys in their lives to test this theory.

Emma was lost in her own thoughts when she heard the whole of the congregation say "amen". She quickly followed the suit. 

As they began to eat, each girl began to chat with one another. All except Emma, that is.

"Em' what's wrong?" Clara asked for she ha noticed her friend's silence.

"Nothin'. I was just thinking about…" she let her voice trail off.

"About what?!" Clara leaned in, wondering what her friend could possible be thinking about that was forbidden to say aloud.

"About," Emma leaned in even closer to Clara, not wanting to be heard.

"About a boy!" At this news, Clara almost jumped, "W'o?" she asked, extremely intrigued.

"I don't know 'is name, but he was standing outside the gate on Sunday, before mass."

"Ooohh! Did he say anything?"

"Yes, and 'e was so rude!' Emma whispered furiously.

"Then why are you thinking about 'im?" Clara asked.

"I don't know. I-"

"Miss Emma," came Sister Katherine's voice, causing the two girls to look up.

"Yes," Emma said, hoping that she was not in trouble in any way.

"Mother Superior would like to speak with you." she smiled, letting Emma know that she was not in trouble, for she could read this girl like a book.

"Ok," she responded, then got up and followed Sister Katherine out of the lunch hall and through the abbey. When they came upon Mother Superior's door, Sister Katherine rapped lightly then entered, Emma following.

"Mother, 'ere she is." Sister Katherine said, motioning towards Emma. Mother Superior just looked at Emma, as if she were studying her, then she asked,

"Child, 'ow would you like to be adopted."


	4. To Go Or Not to Go?

A/N: Thanks for all my reviews! I love ya all! Sorry for the late update, I HATE the end of the year! Oh, well, here is the next chapter.

Ch3: To Go or Not to Go?

"W-What?" Emma asked, for she was not sure whether she heard Mother Superior right.

"'Ow would you like to be adopted?" she repeated, smiling at the young girl's shock.

"By whom?" Emma asked, trying to get her thoughts straight.

"A woman in America, her name is Margaret Bennett," answered Mother Superior. After a few minutes of silence, she continued,

"Child, if we need to give you a day or two to think, we will, but you must know that an opportunity like this does not come around very often."

Emma, dazed and confused, nodded her head and silently walked out the door, Sister Katherine trailing behind her.

"Child!" Sister Katherine called from behind her. Emma spun around to gaze up at her mentor.

"Child, pray, come with me a moment." And Emma followed her into a familiar room. Emma gazed around her, as she always did, and noted that the old, worn out books were still as they had been yesterday and the day before.

"Sit," Sister Katherine gently commanded her, and Emma did just that.

"Now, child, what do you want?" This question was so abrupt, that Emma stared at her for a full five seconds before saying, "What?" Sighing, Sister Katherine explained,

"Child, do you want to be adopted, to go to America?"

"I-I 'onestly don't know. Part of me wants to, yes, but another part of me 'as made a 'ome 'ere and doesn't want to leave…I'm so confused…" she said, lost in her own thoughts.

"Well, I can't tell you what to do, but going to America will be a great opportunity to start a new life, become who you want to be. But like I said, it's your choice." Sister Katherine said, as their conversation lapsed into thoughtful silence. After a minute or two, Emma got up and quietly left the room. Sister Katherine's eyes followed her retreating back until she could see her no longer.

That poor child… she mused, _she's going to have lots of fun in America…_

Emma walked back towards the lunchroom. There she found Clara, talking away to anyone who would listen. She stopped talking as soon as she saw Emma.

"Go on, finish your conversation." Emma nodded towards Clara, who just remained silent.

"What did _she _want?" Virginia asked, excitement and anticipation bubbling from inside of her.

"Mother Superior?" Emma asked, wondering if everybody knew that she went to see the Headmaster.

"Yes! You silly goose! What did she say?"

"Well…" Emma began as a devilish thought came to her mind.

"She wanted to know…" Emma let her voice trail off again, causing the other girls to lean in furiously.

"You know what? I don't think I'm gonna tell you." She said and sent a smile to Clara, then turned her focus to the rest of the food on her plate. This action was received with groans and muffled laughing.

"C'mon Emma, tell us!" Sarah persisted. This caused Emma to smile even further.

"I don't know if I should…" She began truthfully.

"Please!" this came from Clara, who despite everyone's persistence, really didn't care if Emma told them or not. She knew that Emma would eventually tell her, one way or the other, but she wanted to shut up the infuriating noise of whining girls.

"Fine, I'll tell you." Emma resigned, still not knowing if it was the right thing to do.

"Mother Superior got a letter that someone wants to adopted me! Someone in America!" Emma cried, surprising herself at the excitement that was portrayed in her voice.

"What?!" came the cries of all the girls simultaneously. They had known girls to get adopted, but they were never this old when it happened nor were the adopters in America.

Clara, upon hearing this news, rushed out of the room. She ran all the way towards her bedroom, not caring who heard or saw. She was happy for Emma, she truly was, but she was sad for herself and for the friendship she was about to loose.

She had been placed in Westminster Abbey's orphanage a little over two years ago, her parents having been killed from a fire. And Clara, their only child, had been forced to live the streets.

_And well_, she mused, _I had to eat. _And it had been exactly that sentiment that had got her landed in an orphanage. Successfully stealing apples from the street vendor wasn't the stupid part of her plan. The stupid, and _shameful part_, she added, was getting caught.

And if it weren't for the beetle, I wouldn't 'ave been placed in an orphanage! Her mind screamed, as the tears began to fall.

Emma was the only one who would even talk to her that first day. Emma, she thought, with that bright smile and friendly demeanor that could make anyone feel welcome. Clara hadn't believed in God then, she had never even heard of him. Emma told her that it was OK, and that she didn't have to believe, she just had to listen. And Clara did just that. It did not take long for Clara to not only believe, but to participate as well. She found a wondering strength in the believe that there was life after death, and knew that her parents must be watching her. But now that Emma was going, for surly she would, Clara did not know if she could handle it.

How am I supposed to go on, she thought as tears continued to roll down her cheeks, _when the very person who feeds my strength leaves to America?_

Emma, worried about her friend, and knowing that she was upset, left the table in the midst of all the confusion. Everyone was chatting about her proposition, but Emma was no longer excited. She knew what Clara was thinking, for she felt it as well. Clara had been her source of strength and hope all these years, and now, for the first time in two years they were to be separated.

Permanently separated, Emma mused, for she highly doubted that if she in fact, left for America, that she would be back.

As she wound her way through the hallways and into the bedroom in which they shared with three other girls, Emma searched for any sign of Clara. It wasn't until Emma reached Clara's bed, that she found her.

"Clara?" she asked, knowing that she was the cause of her friend's tears.

"What?" Clara asked, obviously trying to sound normal, but they both knew she had been crying.

"Clara, don't cry. I don't even know if I'm going-"

"Yes you are, and we both know it. You'll go because you want a new adventure, because you want to leave. Any of us would." Clara sobbed, whipping the tears from her freckled face.

"I won't go if you don't want me to." Emma said, trying to make Clara feel better, but the end result was to make her friend cry harder.

"What is it?" Emma asked, confused.

"That is so sweet!" Clara cried,

"But we both know that you are gonna go. I may not want you to leave, but I would never tell you not to go." Clara told her as Emma climbed up to Clara's bed on the top bunk. When Emma reached the top and sat down, Clara asked,

"Why wouldn't you go? Just because of me?" Emma thought on this a moment, then said, "No, not just because of you, but that is a factor. Because I've 'ave made a 'ome 'ere and I don't know if I want to live in a place I 'ave never been with a woman I 'ave never met." This statement caused Clara to burs tout laughing.

"What?"

"Emma, you are such a contradiction! You speak of places that you want to go someday, then when you get the chance you doubt whether you want to leave!"

"Well-"

"Don't worry about it! That is one of things I love most about you!" Clara interrupted.

"So…it looks like I'm going." Emma sighed, feeling better all ready.

"Let's go tell Mother Superior."

Deep in the woods of the English countryside, Officer McCullen, the local magistrate shook his head.

"Well, the bodies were found 'ere." He told his partner, who shook his head in response.

"It looks like this one, a male, in his early twenties was hung around the neck." He continued, as he pointed towards the dismembered figure on the ground.

"And this one, female, barely twenty, was shot."

"Well," his partner, Officer Gravers, said,

"What do we do now?"

"We," McCullen stated,

"We go catch ourselves a bad guy."

A/N: Sorry again for the late, update, but I hope you liked it! And for any of you that don't know "the beetle" aka the magistrate is the police in Europe. Oh, and as a side note, my girl Kivaidensgirl has been really sick…(tear). So I HOPE YOU GET BETTER SOON!

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	5. Old Acquaintances

A/N: Sorry I've taken so long to update…School has started and I have really really hard classes this year, and I've had no time to update. (I've already had two tests and school started on Wednesday!) Anyways, if anyone wants to beta this story, they are more than welcome to offer. (I kind of need one…I'm horrible at spelling).

Well, on with the story!

**Chapter 4: Old Acquaintances**

As the days wore on, Emma found herself becoming more and more nervous about crossing the Atlantic. She had never been at sea, and seeing as her first time would be crossing an entire ocean, she began to feel twin pangs of fear and excitement twist around her. As each day wore on, she began to get more fidgety and more tired of her daily life, all the things a girl gets when she is about to embark on an adventure.

She soon learned that she was to be traveling on the biggest ship ever made: the _Titanic, _and that she was to be traveling first-class, compliments of her adopter. She was to have one companion, whom would see to her needs and stay with her until the voyage was complete. Emma felt excitement enfold her as she learned of what was in store. _The grandest ship in the world!_ her mind screamed, while her head told her to remain calm.

_At least I won't be traveling alone…_she told herself, trying to remain practical, but she could not help but gloat to her peers. She absolutely _loved_ the way Laura cringed whenever she mentioned that she was going to be adopted.

"I don't know why you're bragging," Laura said as they were heading to lunch,

"It's not like you're the first to be adopted." At this Emma and Clara exchanged glances,

"Yes, but it doesn't look like _you_ are getting adopted, I thought you were _so_ popular and _so _pretty…why aren't you getting adopted?" Emma asked, hoping that this would shut her up. To her dismay, it didn't.

"I may not be getting adopted right now, but _when _I _do_, I won't brag like some common ingrate!" and with that Laura, her two friends trailing behind her, left.

"I 'ate 'er." Clara stated as she watched them walk away.

"Yeah," I agreed.

It was not long before boxes started to arrive at Westminster. And as the Sister's opened them, they saw that these were for none other than Emma herself. In the boxes contained dresses, clothes, and hats that were for the trip across the sea.

And as Clara helped Emma into the clothes, Emma felt a sense of grief overcome her. "I don't want to leave you." she said, as she slipped on a sky-blue dress that kissed her ankles, a hat that matched, and long white gloves.

"We're not leaving each other," Clara comforted, fighting back her own tears, " We're saying good-bye for a little while, and we _will_ see each other again."

"I 'ope we do." Emma agreed, as she turned to hug her best friend, noticing that like herself, Clara was crying.

"We will, and when we do, we'll both be old, rich women, and we will sit together in our mansions and argue over w'o is better: Shakespeare or Van Gough." Clara laughed, hoping that she could cheer her friend.

"Oh, I think we know w'o is better," Emma responded.

The days went by slowly, but it was soon two days before Emma was to leave. And that night, Emma was called to Mother Superior's office. As she entered into Mother Superior's office, she saw all of the Sisters crowed into the tiny office space, and wondered what was going on. Mother Superior was the first to speak.

"Child, you know that you are leaving two days hence, and we want you to know that you will surely be missed."

"I know, and I shall surely miss each and everyone of you." Emma responded as she looked around at the women who had been her family for so long,

"You all have been mothers of some sort to me, and I am truly thankful." After these words, each one of the Sister's presented her with a token of remembrance. Sister Emily with a miniature statue of a pyramid that when one looked into it, one could see an actual picture of Egypt, Sister Grace gave her a necklace in which had the symbol of a cross, and Sister Katherine gave Emma her favorite book, _Romeo and Juliet. _As Emma held all her little treasures close to her, she felt her heart fill of love and admiration for these women.

"There is one more thing, child, that we must take care of…You know that you are to be escorted to the ship and throughout your journey. Your guide will be you constant companion, and will take care of all personal needs. And mind you, this guide has been chosen by your benefactor with great care."

"I understand," came Emma's voice, sensing that there was more.

"Well, 'e is 'ere to meet you, if you follow Sister Katherine downstairs-"

"So, my escort is a 'e?" Emma asked, eagerly wondering who it could be.

"Yes, 'is name is William Bentley, and 'e will be escorting you."

As Emma followed Sister Katherine down the stairs, and into the hall, she noticed how the candles played with the shadows on the wall. _Funny, she had never noticed all the small things, _Emma thought as she noticed all the toys that the small children had left on the floor.

When she reached the end of the stairs, Emma's heart began to race. Although, she had no idea why, she was both nervous and excited to meet her escort. She was greeted with a pair of big brown eyes.

"'Ello, I'm William." came the British voice as he took Emma's hand.

"Emma," she mumbled in return as she glared into those eyes, the same eyes which had been haunting her for months.

His sandy brown hair looked the same as she remember, and she was right about him being a man. And as they stood there, she could all but sense that he was looking at her, measuring her, as she was in fact, doing to him.

"Well, I'll be in the 'all, I'll come and get you in five minutes," Sister Katherine, knowing that this was her time to leave, excused herself and quickly left the room.

As soon as Sister Katherine was gone, Emma sneered, "I would never 'ave agreed if I 'ad known that _you_ would be my escort." She watched his eyes light up at this, and wondered why she felt them appealing. "Ah, well, maybe we 'got off on the wrong foot,' as the American's say," William responded in that calm voice of his, "And maybe we could start over, and be friends."

"I would rather drink poison," Emma spat, watching the smile reach his lips,

"We 'ave to spend a week on the ship together, it would 'elp if we were friends." he told her as he took her hand for a second time.

"I'm William, Wil for short." Sensing that she would have no choice, she shook his hand and said, "Emma, glad to meet you."

"Well, that's better, ice suits you better than 'eat, although I would love to see your temper in full force."

"Keep on talking and you will," she said, and this time he laughed, a strong and pleasant laugh.

"I think we will get along just fine."


	6. Aboard the Titanic

A/N: Thanks for all my reviews! I love you guys! I've been so busy lately, and have to take my SAT's in 2 months! AHHH! I'm going to die…J/K Well, on with the story…

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Chapter 5: Aboard the Titanic

Emma stared at the shore, sighing as she watched it grow smaller and smaller.

"Good-bye," she whispered as she turned away from the railing of the ship. Only to be face to face with Wil.

"'Ello," he said, smiling as he waited for her to respond.

"What?" she said, hoping, as she had many times that day, that he would simply disappear.

"Is that any way to greet your companion?" he smirked, watching as her green eyes lit with temper. For some reason, he was fascinated with them.

Restraining her temper, she aid between clenched teeth, "What would you like?"

"Ah," his smile widened and she knew he was laughing at her, "That's much better. I just wanted to tell you that your luggage is ready for you."

"Oh, thank you," she responded, grateful. _Damn it, how dare he make me grateful when I want to be upset!_

"What were you doing over there anyways?" he asked, referring to the spot, where she had been standing.

Deciding to be truthful, she said, "Saying good-bye." This surprised him, she saw. He had expected her to shrug him off, and normally she would. For some reason, she delighted in seeing that she could confuse him, and it made her want to do it again.

He chose his words carefully, "I didn't realize you'd miss it so much. I've always wanted to travel, so going form place to place has always been easy. I've never had a home to miss." Silently he swore. _Where had that come from?_ he asked himself.

"Oh, well, yeah…" she ran a hand through her hair, wondering why she should be touched be this sentiment.

"I don't really know what to say to that…I guess we come from two different worlds…" she stopped, then, taking a deep breath, and made her decision, "I never knew my parents. The sisters said that I was left on their door step with a note saying that my mother would be back for me. Fifteen years later she hasn't come for me. I guess I gave up hope she would ever come. Besides, the sister's and other orphans are my family."

Suddenly, she was in his arms. She had no idea why she needed to be held by him or who had moved closer, all she knew was at that moment she wanted him to hold her, she wanted him to understand. And instinctively, he did.

As he ran his hands through her golden hair, he said, "I guess we're more alike that we like to believe. I never knew my parents either…"

After a minute of silence, she drew away. "I-I should go unpack, and it's going to take a while for me to get ready for dinner…" She smirked.

"Yeah," he smiled back, reluctantly backing away from her, but he continued to watch her as she turned and headed towards his own room to prepare for the evening.

Emma dressed in a red dress made of fine satin. It had a crimson sash that wrapped around the middle and a collar of lace. The hem and cuffs of her arms matched the pattern of lace, and gave her dress a simplistically innocent feeling. She would have looked half her age if it weren't for the tight nipped corset that molded and highlighted her womanly features. The hat that matched, was carefully placed atop her hair, which was delicately arranged in a bun by her stateroom maid. Emma wore long white gloves that reached all the way to her elbow, and felt like the princess of England. She slid her shiny black boots on, hoping that they would make her taller, and look therefore older. Finally, she took out a necklace with a small diamond surrounded by rubies. The chain was gold, and as Emma fastened it, she heard a brief knock on her stateroom door.

"Enter," she called as she turned around to come face to face, for the second time that day, with Wil. She surveyed him, even as he surveyed her. Each taking in each other's presence.

He wore black. The shirt suited him, she decided. She knew he had always been handsome, it was this quality that had always annoyed and intrigued her, but in the black and white suit he looked absolutely dashing. She felt her face grow warm as she continued to look, so she spoke, " We should be going."

"Yeah," he said, his mouth suddenly dry. As he offered his arm, he ordered himself to walk. He had never seen a more beautiful creature in all his life.

The first class dining room was exquisite. The era of renaissance seemed to be the theme, and caused one to feel as if one were anywhere but on a ship. Emma loved it immediately. As Wil lead her to her seat, she noted that there were other chairs at the table. "Are there other people?" she whispered to him as he took his seat beside her.

"Yes, " he grinned, "The countess of Ross and her husband, the Duke and Duchess of Loringham and their niece affectingly known as Effy." Emma didn't get any time to respond, for their guests were being seated.

Taking this as an opportunity to survey them, Emma noticed that the Duchess of Ross was a prim lady, with red hair and an Irish complexion. _A no-nonsense woman_,Emma deemed her. Her husband, however, however, was of equal contrast to his stern wife. He was a big man, and the demeanor to match. Every thing whether it be laugh, cry or shout was done with the utmost importance and greatness. Emma soon discovered that this man knew no small emotions.

The Duke and Duchess of Loringham were what Emma called important. They were rich and of status and their this fact very well, yet, to Emma they proved to be witty company. The Duke, always had a joke to tell, and his wife was sweet, never wanting to hurt anyone's feelings.

Their last companion was a young girl not much older that Emma herself. _She is a very outgoing person_, Emma noticed as Effy turned to talk to Wil. No sooner had Effy done this, that she let out a little giggle and put her hands on Wil's shoulders. Emma felt a sudden surge of jealousy rip through her system. The next emotion she felt was shock. _Why do I care who flirts with Wil? It shouldn't matter…It doesn't matter!_ she told herself.

"Child, are you ill?" Duchess Loringham, always caring, asked. This touched Emma enough to have her compose herself.

"I think I'm getting ill. If you'll excuse me I would like to head out to the boat deck-"

"I'll go with you," Wil chimed in, a curios look on his face.

"Or I," chimed in the Baron of Ross.

"NO, thank you both. I can go alone, I don't want to ruin your evening. Thank you all, you have been marvelous company." And with that, Emma strode out the door.

Knowing that Emma wasn't sick, but wondering what was wrong, Wil rose, only to be stopped by Effy.

"Where are you going?" Effy asked, a small smile played on her lips.

"I need to see what's-how Miss Emma is feeling." Wil answered, starting to move towards the door.

"But she said to leave her alone. Why don't you just give her some time to herself."

"Because, Miss Evelyn, Miss Emma is my companion and I was given strict instructions to look after her." he responded, his voice brisk. As he turned to the others, he warmed it,

"Thank you for your company, unfortunately I must go to check on Miss Emma, seeing as she is my companion. Good night."

"Good man," Wil heard Duke Loringham say as he left the room.

Emma looked out towards the sea. _It's so mystifying,'_ she thought. She had let her previous emotions drift away with the sea, and now only a gentle calming was left. She realized that her jealousness was merely a child-like response to seeing Wil flirt with another girl for the first time. _Not that she minded,_ she reminded herself.

Wil had no idea how long he had been watching her. He had planned to be friendly, even polite with her, for something indeed was bothering her. _And she might have trusted him enough to tell him_, he mused, but all thoughts of conversation flew out of his head as he saw her standing there, back to him, a few stray hairs drifting in the wind.

When she turned, she saw Wil, just standing there, staring at her like she was a ghost. "Are you all right?" she asked, wondering what could possibly have scared him.

"What…Oh, yes, I'm fine…" Wil blinked his thoughts back into place, "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes I'm fine, thank you." Emma said, shifting.

"I just need to lay down. I should be going back-" the rest of her sentence was cut off as his hand reached for her arm. The contact had quick sprints of heat flowing up her arm.

As Wil turned her so that she faced him he felt his heart quicken. And as his lips touched hers, he felt her sigh, He kept the kiss light, though emotions ran hot inside of him.

They were barely touching, yet Emma felt as though she were being smothered. _How can one person affect me this much?_ she wondered. Her head was spinning, and she gripped his arms for support.

Feeling her arms around him, only strengthened the power and feelings whirling inside her body. He knew that he could never get enough. Because of that fact, he slowly, carefully, reluctantly moved away.

"Well that wasn't so bad was it?" he smiled, although his heart was still pounding.

Emma stared at him, then smiled in return,

"I've had better." she said and strolled off, praying that he couldn't see her legs wobble.


End file.
